


Deep

by Liz_Jarvis



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV First Person, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz_Jarvis/pseuds/Liz_Jarvis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair POV</p><p>Warning - mentions self-harm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own 'em, not making any money from them!

Shit.

That's a deep one.

Didn't mean to cut that deep, press the knife in that hard.

I just didn't feel the other ones. Wanted to make sure I was still feeling.

I felt that one.

Deep crimson drips from my forearm and splashes onto the bathroom tile. I watch with fascination as the viscous liquid pools together and runs into the cracks. I briefly wonder how I'm going to get rid of the stains this time but the room starts to tilt and I belatedly realise I'm in trouble.

I didn't mean to cut that deep.

I know I should be doing something to stop the flow of precious life blood but I can't seem to summon the energy, so I just sit there, eyes closed, and lean my head back against the sink.

Jim's gonna be pissed.

A chuckle makes its way past my lips. Jim. Big ol' Sentinel Jim. Hyperactive senses are his super power.

Obfuscation is mine.

*Why, yes Jim, that is blood you smell. Sliced my finger making a bagel this morning.*

*Blood in the sink? Cut myself shaving.*

*Just a paper-cut Jimbo, no biggie.*

Part of me congratulates myself for duping the detective so effectively, but another part can't help but wonder. Wonder if Jim really does know but chooses to ignore it. Probably figures I'm big enough and ugly enough to fight my own battles.

I chuckle again, only this time it sounds more like a sob. I've really fucked up this time.

Suddenly I realise I'm not alone. I curse myself for being so caught up in my pathetic musings that I didn't hear the front door. Even if I had there would be no time to clean up before Jim realised something was wrong and now he's gonna see and it's all messed up and how did I let this happen...

"Aw, Chief."

I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the accusation, disappointment and anger that I'm sure will be lurking in those baby blues.

The blade is removed from my weak grasp, a towel is wrapped around my shredded arm and a hand grips my chin and forces my head up. The gentleness in these actions surprises me and my eyes open of their own accord.

Love stares back.

I glance away, try to move but the hand will not let me. I gaze back. My vision suddenly blurs and wetness snakes down my cheeks.

I try to talk but the link between brain and mouth seems to have temporarily failed and all that emerges are unintelligible sounds and sobs.

I didn't mean to cut that deep

\-----

I watch him as he cries and my heart breaks for him. I know I need to take him to the hospital to get his arm stitched but the towel will hold for now and there's something else he needs more.

I gather him into my arms and try to convey to him how much he means to me through the strength of my embrace.

I rock him gently.

"We'll get through this, Chief. You and me, buddy. We'll get through this."


End file.
